


Tight Pants and a Tight Spot

by Imogen_Penn



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 06:44:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5617297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imogen_Penn/pseuds/Imogen_Penn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vaguely holiday themed fluff for hannasfandos / gingerlocks. I am ever so sorry it is late, but I hope it brings you joy anyways. Happy New Year!!</p><p>Also, I realized that I accidentally posted this to the darcyland secret santa blog. *Sigh* 2016 is off to a great start guys :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tight Pants and a Tight Spot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GingerLocks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerLocks/gifts).



It took her a solid few minutes to realise that she was, actually, still alive.

She had been deep in the heart of the supposedly cleared Hydra base doing recon when the secondary charges went off. She had been immediately knocked into a wall with the force of the blast and then huddled covering her head for a few long moments where an odd, deep rumbling noise shuddered over the base, which was plunged into deep blackness.

When the rumbling stopped, the darkness and silence was so total that she had to pinch herself to ensure that she was still there.

It was another few moments before she could pull herself together to start taking stock.

She was sore and already getting stiff down her right side where she had impacted the wall. A deep breath told her that it was quite likely that she had cracked a few ribs, but other than that she was in reasonably good shape. She didn’t appear to have a head injury, she could walk.

She reached into an interior pocket of the shield issue parka she was wearing and pulled out the emergency head lamp, securing it over her toque and looking around.

The place was a mess, strewn with debris. She could see in the distance that at least one of the corridors leading out of here had collapsed.

She tried very hard not to think about how stable the roof over top of her was.

She pulled out her communicator and immediately pressed her emergency beacon, letting anyone alive out there know where she was. She tried calling into the base, but wasn’t getting reception under all the ruble and snow.

She switched to short range walkie talkie mode and immediately heard a burst of static followed by “….67, please report. This is shield agent 2967, broadcasting on short range, this is 2967, please report.” Absolute textbook emergency broadcast. She didn’t know who 2967 was, but she was damn glad that someone who seemed to know what they were doing was around.

“Hey there 2967,” she said with relief, “this is probationary agent Lewis.”

“Lewis?” the voice came back with an odd lurch. Probably he was hoping for someone a bit more useful than a probationary agent. “What’s your status?”

“I’m alright,” she said, “a bit banged up but mobile. You?”

“About the same,” came the voice, sounding solid and reassuring again. “Do you know where you are?”

“In the lab, right at the center of base,” she said immediately.

“Okay, I’m not far from you. I’m over near the hangar on the east wall. Stay put and I’ll get to you.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to head closer to an exit?” she asked, even though she would be quite happy just to follow orders.

“There’s no exit here,” the voice came back grimly.

“Alright, you’re the boss 2967,” she agreed. “I’ll just…wait here.”

“Okay Lewis, I’ll check in with you every ten minutes. Call in if your situation changes.”

+

+

“Hey 2967?”

“Yeah Lewis?”

“You feeling chilly out there?”

“The heat isn’t working anymore. Keep you hood up, stay moving, think warm thoughts.”

“Think warm thoughts? Are you trying to make a joke there 2967?”

“Is it working?”

“Might be. I’m picturing the way Captain Roger’s ass looks in those tights. I’m feeling very toasty.”

“….”

“So you’re the sort that can dish it out but not take it, hey?”

“I’m not going to take issue with what keeps you warm at night Lewis.”

+

+

“This is 2967 checking in. Should be there shortly. How’re you holding up Lewis?”

“The jumping jacks are just barely keeping the frostbite out of my fingers.”

“Glad to hear it Lewis.”

+

+

“Hey 2967?”

“Lewis? Everything alright?”

“Well, a chunk of the ceiling just fell in down the hall. Not sure how stable the roof is right now.”

“Is the hallway heading south clear?”

“Clearish.”

“Head south then, you’ll run into me soon.”

+

+

She could just see the jumping and skittering light of another headlamp moving towards her when the ceiling fell in.

“Run!” she heard 2967’s voice yelling at her and she threw herself forward. She felt a pair of strong arms thrown around her and a heavy body pressing her into the floor, taking the brunt of the debris that fell from the ceiling.

After a moment, the noise settled and the figure on top of her rolled sideways with a groan. She pulled herself into a sitting position, and she could see that if she had been even three feet back in the hallway, she would have been done for.

As it was, 2967 looked a bit the worse for wear. He was completely covered in a fine gray dust that was beginning to congeal into a macabre mud where it mixed with the blood flowing from a gash across his forhead.

“Shit. Oh shit.” Darcy muttered as she fumbled in her jacket for her med kit.

2967 was pushing himself up on his elbows.

“Hey, stay still. You got hit in the head pretty good, you big stupid hero.” She was getting a bit hysterical, but she figured she could be forgiven, because she really didn’t want to be left alone in this icy death trap.

“I’m fine, really.” And his voice sounded unreasonably lucid behind the disfiguring blood and dust.

“Will you at least let me do something about that cut on your head?” she cut out, not really giving him an option as she grabbed his chin with one hand and began cleaning the cut with a sterile wipe with another.

He sat there stoically as she cleaned the wound.

It was when she could actually _see_ the cut closing under her fingers that she really stopped to take a look at the shape of his chin, the blue of his eyes, and the nagging familiarity of his voice.

“Oh crap,” she said with feeling, as she sat back on her heels.

She could see his white teeth through the grime as he had the nerve to grin at her, using her discarded wipe to clean some of the grime from his face.

Yep, that was 100% definitely Captain Steve Rogers.

They had run into each other a few times, always in social situations, never at work. She had a history of getting embarrassingly tongue tied around him.

“I’m really sorry about that whole tights thing.” She finally managed, mumbling through her hands.

He let out an honest to goodness laugh at that. “Quite alright,” he said, far too cheerfully for someone who had recently taken a ton of concrete to the head for her, “I won’t hold it against you.”

“I didn’t know it was you,” she continued to try to defend herself.

“I gathered that,” he said evenly.

“I was just trying to lighten the mood.” She needed to stop.

“Miss Lewis,” she thought his smile looked a little sad, “We’ve met a few times. I am fully aware by your behaviour that you are not harbouring secret thoughts about my tights. You can relax.”

She blinked in surprise, and was about to open her mouth to say something very stupid, but Steve interrupted.

“We should keep moving,” he said, pulling himself to his feet with nothing more than a stiff rolling of his shoulders. He offered her a hand. “You okay to move?”

She nodded, reaching up to take his hand, and then cried out in pain, curling in on herself.

Somewhere between the collapsing ceiling and the impact of a very solid body on top of her, her ribs had gone from sore to excruciating.

She cut back any further cries with stiff, rapid breathing. “It’s my ribs,” she said tightly, “I think they’re broken.”

Without another world, he leaned down, scooped her up carefully like she weighed nothing, and moved off down the hallway.

After a long moment punctuated by Steve’s even steps and Darcy’s pained breathing, he finally spoke.

“I think we should be able to get out by the west exit. As far as I can tell, the secondary explosives brought down an avalanche. The west exit is out past the slope and should be relatively clear. That’s where shield will start digging.”

Darcy nodded tightly.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, drawing quickly to a stop, “do you need a break?”

“No, I just…” Darcy shifted slightly, pulling her arms around his neck and taking some of the pressure off her ribs. “Okay?” she found herself speaking into Steve’s neck, sweaty and grimey but somehow smelling of warmth and comfort.

He swallowed heavily. “Okay,” he replied, and moved forward.

It was a very large base. Steve seemed to have been right and the farther west they moved, the clearer the hallways became. But the silence was killing her.

It was embarrassing, making that comment about his tights. But somehow it was more concerning to her that her severe case of foot in mouth that seemed to come up whenever he was around had make him think she didn’t like him much. Particularly when the exact opposite was the case.

“Hey Steve?” she finally asked against his neck.

“Yeah?” his voice held a note of concern and focus that made her toes warm and the pain in her ribs fade.

“What did you mean about my behaviour?” she asked tentatively.

“Oh,” she could feel him tensing under her hands, “I didn’t mean…you’ve always been very polite. I just get the impression you’re not much interested in getting to know me. Which is fine…I mean…you don’t have to…” Steve let out a frustrated sigh.

Darcy got the distinct feeling that she and Steve might be two of the biggest idiots in the world, and all of their run ins at parties and events started seeming a bit less unplanned.

“Were you…were you trying to get to know me?” she asked, hoping he took the shake in her voice to be from the pain in her ribs.

After a moment, he said cautiously, “I might have been.”

“Well, I have this problem where when insanely handsome men who are also unreasonably kind a funny start talking to me at parties I get incredibly awkward, can usually only manage a few vowel sounds, and then I have to go away.” She let it out in a rush, glad the grime would conceal her blush.

He stopped walking. “Oh,” he said dumbly.

“Come on Cap,” she tried lightly, “don’t leave me hanging here.”

He gently set her on her feet, wiping at the dust on her cheek with his thumb. “Insanely handsome, hey?” he asked with a grin.

She rolled her eyes at him, “Well, it’s also possible that I have a head injury from the…”

And then he was kissing her.

It was a little awkward, because he was taller than her, and trying to be careful of her ribs, and they were both filthy, but it was also kind of perfect.

They started apart, Darcy wincing as the lurching motion of the ground jarred her ribs, her hands clutching at Steve’s arms in alarm.

“What was that?” she asked in a whisper.

“Hopefully shield breaking through the west entrance,” he said hesitantly.

“And if we’re not so lucky?” she didn’t bother to hid the shaking in her voice.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” Steve said staunchly. “I’ve spent months thinking you would never give me the time of day, so I’m not about to let you go now.”

She let her head fall against his shoulder as his arms gently settled around her waist. “I’m gonna hold you to that,” she said, hiding a grin against his jacket.

“You better,” he said, “now let’s go see about that west exit, alright?”

It was, as it turned out, shield opening the west exit. And while there were a few raised eyebrows from the ground team, no one stopped Steve from carrying her to the med bay and staying with her while they checked her over.

“Hey Darcy?” he asked her, sitting beside her bed as she started feeling floaty and dreamy as the pain medication they had given her kicked in.

“Hmmm??” she answered.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to Stark’s Christmas shindig next week. I mean, I’m sure you’re going anyways, but I…” he looked adorable and awkward and she couldn’t quite remember why she had found him so intimidating before.

“Sounds fun,” she said, reaching out and squeezing his hand, “I have one request though.”

“Anything.”

“Will you wear the tights?”

The last sound she heard before slipping into a blissful painless sleep was his deep and warm laugh beside her.

 


End file.
